


From Russia with Love

by KindOfDistracting



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Bonding, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Medic is both their best Friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:14:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24545245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindOfDistracting/pseuds/KindOfDistracting
Summary: Helping the lumbering Russian on their team learn English, Spy gains a not so unlikely friendship.And eventually more.
Relationships: Heavy/Spy (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 42





	1. A - Basic User

To their teammates, their friendship certainly must look odd. Really, what could this bear of a man have in common with him, master of subterfuge and generally blending in? Quite a lot, actually. Spy has to confess, he hadn’t seen it coming at first, either - very embarrassing, considering it is literally his job to know people. A humbling experience, maybe even a bit of a wake up call. Nobody on their team should be taken at face value. 

Heavy had approached him first, right after their team had just met for the first time. Right after Spy had watched Heavy stumble through basic conversation like a bear through a china shop, his discomfort plain as day.  
" _You know Russian_."  
It isn't a question. Heavy simply knows he does, because even a passable Spy would be a Polyglot. The first sign Heavy wasn’t as dumb as he was tall.

“ _Yes I do, among many others_.” Spy nods for emphasis. There’s a few ways this conversation could go. After all he’s admitting to leaving Heavy - the class the big guy had been introduced as, so as much as a name as any of them would get - to the proverbial wolves.  
Nobody can blame Spy for being curious, though, not when most of his work consisted of being very uncomfortably curious about things.  
“ _Help me improve my English. If we are to work as a team, I need to be able to communicate properly_.” Ah. Well, at least it’s good to know he’s taking this job seriously. Especially when half the team doesn't seem to bother with anything resembling professionalism. 

On Heavy’s insistence, they meet the same evening.  
For lack of any other space to occupy, they’re in the - for now - abandoned rec room.  
Heavy comes prepared. There’s a few loose sheets of paper with fancy looking swirls on them - oh dear god, it’s Russian cursive. Spy doesn’t have time to dwell on that mess however, as Heavy picks up the sheets again and taps them against the surface of the table. There’s not enough paper for the motion to really matter, but Spy understands the gesture anyway.  
“ _So_ ,” Heavy begins, staring at his own handwriting,” _I have collected words I thought I might need the most during work. It’s what I will need the soonest_.”  
Spy nods. 

They go through the words one after another, with Heavy meticulously noting every translation down, once in clumsy Latin letters, then something in this indecipherable cursive of his. If Spy has to guess, Heavy is trying to write the words down phonetically. With how capricious English pronunciation is, a very smart move.  
They spend hours like this - Heavy isn’t happy until he has the pronunciation of each word somewhat down. There’s no way around his accent, but Spy understands how hard that is to get rid of. He has had enough training and practise to eliminate his own, and to imitate many more.

“ _How do you say this in french?_ Help.” Heavy is tapping the paper in front of him for emphasis.  
“ _That would be au secours_.” Spy watches how Heavy’s brows knit together in what he has learned by now means he’s concentrating. Spy repeats the phrase, making sure to over enunciate the words this time. Heavy follows along after some more contemplation, repeating the words a few times to get a feeling for them.  
It sounds so much better than his attempts at English, and Spy is almost tempted to teach him French, instead.

Heavy asks for many more words, even starts writing them down on the back of one of his self-made dictionaries. Not all of them are work related. As time goes on, it's less and less words that might come in handy on a battlefield.  
Spy is happy to indulge Heavy, not just because it's nice to have somebody interested in his mother tongue, but also because Heavy is so eager to learn. He's still as focused as before, but something has changed in his demeanor. The way he slowly shifts closer, leaning towards Spy, how relaxed he is. He's having fun.  
And Spy has to admit, he's having fun, too.

Eventually it's not even about words anymore, neither English nor French, and they're just chatting along. While Spy had led the conversation for now, Heavy is taking over now.  
" _So then border control detained me. For hours I sat in that tiny cell, thinking I was screwed. I thought this contract would just open the door for me, but I guess the Red Scare is more effective than I thought. Anyways. Hours! In some cramped little cell made for men half my size_."  
Spy nods along. He can actually emphasize with that, even if he is a man half of Heavy's size. But he also has a variety of fake identities to use - not that he would have needed them with a non-communist background.

" _And since none of them spoke Russian, and you know how my grasp on English is, all I could do was wait and hope. Fortunately the contact who was to meet me at the airport caught on and I was spared from spending my night there_."  
Heavy seems to be taking the story with humor, chuckling when he finishes his tale, so Spy politely laughs along. It still leaves him uncomfortable - he doubts any of their colleagues had such a welcome here.

" _Anyway, it's getting late. Who knows what tomorrow has in store for us. Thank you so much for your time tonight, my friend. I really appreciate it._ ”  
Heavy carefully gathers all his notes and gets up, wincing a little from sitting hunched over them for so long. He gives Spy’s shoulder a light squeeze before he leaves.  
“ _Good night_.”  
Friend, huh. Well, Spy can’t say the evening was a complete waste of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess quarantine means I'm back not only in TF2, but also rarepair hell?  
> I just couldn't get the thought for this out of my head and suddenly I was producing content. Whelp.  
>  Now for some disclaimers:  
> I don't speak Russian. And French just a little. If something is in cursive you can assume it's a foreign language.  
> (Maybe I'll give you some German though. Maybe.)  
> Also, a little headcanon: Spy plays up his accent. You can't tell me a Spy of his supposed caliber can't speak foreign languages without an accent giving him away, even if the disguise kit has a voice modulator or something. He's still French.
> 
> No beta, we post like Heroes, or rather "everyone is your beta when you just spam people with bits of your WIP"


	2. A1 Breakthrough or beginner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more friendship happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit i'd never have thought i'd ever get a "oh wow i really like this i hope you'll update" comment ever, but here i am  
> Queen_Anarchy i'm dedicating this to you for encouraging me to get through my funk and finish the last 5% of this chapter that has been collecting dust over the past few months. i cant guarantee it'll get me through the rest of it but i'll give it my best o7  
> Thank you.  
> i didnt have this beta read im so sorry i just needed this up
> 
> you can take Medic coming from Stuttgart from my cold dead stuttgarter hands. also yes south western germany is wine country.

They meet again two days later. 

This time, Spy has prepared a few things to help Heavy get started with English grammar. He really seems to be committed to learning English - and to be honest, it gives Spy something to do. There won’t be any fighting for at least a week, and there’s only so much training and getting to know the terrain one man can do in a day. Besides, it's kind of flattering to be the only one capable of helping Heavy. It certainly doesn't hurt his pride. Nor that Heavy is a quick and eager learner.

Considering how much of a mess some English grammar can be, it's very admirable. 

It's just that it turns out that speaking a language doesn't mean you're going to be good at explaining it. Especially not in yet another second language.

They still make it work, though. Heavy is just too damn stubborn to let some silly table for irregular verbs stop him. 

But it’s not just the lessons Spy is giving Heavy. During the day, he’s often seen with other teammates, simply listening to their conversations. Not even Spy can tell if he’s actually able to follow along, but it’s nice to see that the others try to get him involved a little. 

Well.

Except Scout. From the looks of it, he has already written Heavy off as imbecile and keeps ignoring him for the most part. How ironic.

During breakfast, Heavy is seen sitting with their Sniper and Demoman as they trade stories. A healthy mix of hunting (courtesy of Sniper) and ghost stories (Demo’s, of course) that invite Spy to stay a little and listen, too. Like a game between them, each is more outrageous than the one before, until Demo starts talking about that one time he almost got dragged away and drowned by a kelpie. The grand finale - he blew the horse monster up, of course - has everyone listening in wheezing with laughter.

And Sniper actually makes an effort to tone his accent down as much as he can when he notices Heavy is listening, too, but Demo’s Scottish stays as thick as ever.

The Engineer is probably the one who takes most care to include Heavy in conversations. He’s doing his best to keep his accent to a minimum. Not only that, he sticks to simple words, short sentences, and whenever he addresses Heavy he makes sure it’s with yes or no questions. Though he usually sticks to questions about his minigun. 

Medic doesn’t give him any of those courtesies. He just talks at Heavy rather than with him, peppering his lengthy monologues with medical terms and a healthy dose of German. But that’s how Medic talks to everyone, if he gets somebody to stay in his vicinity long enough to get him going. Usually the only person interested enough is Engineer, but Heavy looks happy enough to just listen.

After dinner Soldier somehow manages to rope Heavy into watching TV with him. They’re both on the rec room’s couch, Pyro on the floor in front of them, though it’s hard to tell if they’re watching along, too. 

Spy flees the room after the intro music starts, it looks to be some sort of soap opera, and it’s already enough to grate on his nerves. Exposure to the English language through media is a great idea, but Heavy doesn't need a babysitter.

Instead Spy steps outside into the setting sun. 

It’s a nice evening, the heat is just starting to let up. Spy doesn’t want to think about how bad it will be once they’d have to fight in it, but that’s for later. He flicks open his cigarette case and lights a cigarette.

Unfortunately, the calm doesn’t last. Scout’s voice is just too hard to ignore in any situation, and it carries way too nicely over to where Spy had started to look for the first evening star.

But Spy’s curiosity is only piqued when he can hear a voice with a distinct german accent answer - curious.

He follows the voices, smoke trailing behind him. Scout and Medic are facing each other, frustration clear from Scouts posture. There’s something by Medic's feet, but in the progressing twilight it’s hard to make out.

Then Scout kicks - it’s a ball! Medic catches it with his own foot, earning more noises of complaint from Scout. Spy watches Medic draw back his foot. Excitement blossoms in his guts and for a moment, it’s like he’s ten years old again. The ball flies, a nice long arc, and Scout ducks away.

It’s now directly flying at Spy.

He hears squawks of shock, then an excited laugh when he stops the ball with his shoulder. It lands harmlessly at his feet, next to the still glowing cigarette that had fallen out of his mouth - oh well. For a moment, he and Medic look at each other, then Spy sends the ball straight back to him. He follows suit, not quite able to ignore the way Scout gawks at him.

"Our good doctor, full of surprises." 

Medic barks out another laugh in response. The ball is back at his feet.

"Really? I'm surprised to learn you have any hobbies at all." It still baffles Spy how thick Medic's accent is, despite all the years he had spent first in England and later the US. 

Neither of them pay any mind to Scout, who uses Medic's distraction to abscond.

"I thought I had mentioned my participation in a soccer club. Regular physical activity always looks good on a CV," Medic says as they pass the ball back and forth, "I'm surprised you didn't find it in my files. My very classified for our employer only files." Spy snorts. 

“No, I only remember that you know how to fence. Curious, that.”  
“Eh, it was part of my _Studentenverbindung_ \- what do you call that again - fraternity! My fraternity. Got into a lot of hijinks, I wasn’t always there just to do first aid.” Medic grins, and for a moment Spy can see him 30 years younger, rapier in hand, ready to give anyone a scar daring to challenge him.

“Unfortunately my medical files have nothing about hobbies,” Medic sighs dramatically, drawing a snort from Spy - it’s hilarious that Medic has a file on him, as rudimentary as it may be. Physician-patient privilege, huh. So Spy just shrugs.

“Feel free to ask me anything you want to know. Of course, you’ll have to determine yourself the truth of the answer I give you.”

It’s completely dark and well into the night when they return to base. 

They're still talking animatedly, Medic still loud despite his best efforts to keep his voice down. The topic they've ended up with is wine, of all things. It has Medic gesticulating wildly, as he describes the rich and dry bouquet of the Trollinger, swearing by the honor of his grandmother, father's side, that there’s nothing better out there. Sure.

The TV is still running, and Spy can make out Heavy’s bulky form illuminated by its flickering images. Medic rips him from figuring out what he’s watching with a friendly but a bit too forceful slap of camaraderie on his back. “Well, I’m going to bed. _Gut’s Nächtle_ , Spy!”

_Goots_ what? Spy stares at Medic’s retreating back and - oh. - Stuttgart. _Right_. 

Heavy is looking at him when Spy turns around again. “Good night.”

They nod at each other, before Spy retreats as well.

  
Oh sweet mercy. He’s making friends, isn’t he?


End file.
